The man on the Boston T asked me to pray for him. I could see it in his eyes. He didn’t feel he could pray himself.
I met my neighbor Jamie at camp. Her grandparents dropped her off. We were reintroduced by Marsha. I remember when her father was sick. Her light stayed on all night. I remember meeting a skeptic who discovered God was real. I wish I stayed to meet her mom. Tabitha lived at camp during the summers. She seemed preoccupied with shallow things. No father. The boy at the bonfire who shared about his parents divorce. I couldn’t have been past 12, but I never forgot him.
Hurting people. Everywhere.In different ways for different reasons, but hurting all the same. I remember subconsciously asking “Is Jesus enough? When He began healing my own heart, I realized he was.
For me. For everyone. Always.
How about you?